I woke to the whirr of my Daddy's
fan as it lifted me out of my body
that stayed among the pillows somehow
and wouldn't budge, much as I tried,
even when I pleaded with my toes
to wriggle or when I stamped my feet
in a huff but they didn't obey. My
body lay limp on the bed and couldn't
get up and there it lay until it
no longer mattered, far from the swirl
of cloud and light and nothing else
but calm. Then in my head, I saw 'me';
my only thought, that I was dead,
and I only seven with my Mummy's
secret on the topmost shelf, a Mars bar
hurting my tummy, and sure I was
to burn in Hell. Where could I go for Holy
Confession?, but a voice was saying
in my head, "What are you doing so far
from home, it isn't your turn, you have
to go back," and I was happy to tumble
back into bed, because I was only seven.